Confessions
by rangeman girl
Summary: A Lester Santos short. One-shot.


*I've had no desire to write anything in a long time, but since that last little 100 word challenge, I've been itching to write something. Alas, no inspiration. So I was looking back over the past challenges, and found Lisa's Fall Challenge of – 'A Drunken Honest Moment' and here are the results. Enjoy.

Confessions.

By: A. Cosentino

Do you ever have those days when everything you touch turns to crap? Try having a week like that, hell a year. You would think that by now, I'd have a handle on this. Know what to expect. But this week, man there just aren't words for how crappy this week had been. So given that my week from hell was finally over, I decided to blow off some steam, have a couple of drinks, maybe dance a little and head home.

Considering I was still the laughing stock of the Burg this week, I decided to frequent some place new. After this week I didn't think I could deal with the whispers, snickers, and pointed stares all directed at me. Sometimes anonymity is a good thing.

So that is how I found myself at a little place called The Watering Hole just outside of Trenton. It wasn't a run down place, but it wasn't glitzy by any means. The worn bar top looked like it had seen plenty of drinks in its day; faint rings from glasses stained the surface. The scuffed wooden floor felt homey, and as I eased onto one of the barstools, I felt comfortable. There weren't many people in the small bar, and that suited me just fine. I ordered a light beer and took a long pull, savoring the coolness trickling down my throat.

My gaze swung to the right and locked with a familiar set of deep, dark chocolate brown eyes. I blinked a few times, making sure that I was seeing correctly. I took in the short, mussed hair, and devastating half grin, complete with a dimple in his left cheek. Of all the places I could pick, I would choose the one with Lester Santos sitting at the end of the bar.

I don't know Santos all that well. We've worked together a few times, but nothing to write home about. What I did know about him could be summed up in a few sentences. He liked to get shot at, arrested and have fun. He worked for RangeMan. He was drop dead gorgeous, and from what I'd heard a player. I could see how the latter could be very true. The man was walking sex, and gave Ranger a run for his money in the hotness department.

I stifled a grin as he slipped off the barstool, and cast me a full fledged smile, his brilliant white teeth gleaming against his olive complexion. I mean what woman wouldn't love to see that fine specimen of man walking toward her smiling?

As he rounded the bar I noticed, much to my surprise that he was swaying slightly. I've never seen any of the RangeMen out of control. Control is what they do. But from the looks of things, Santos' control had slipped a couple of drinks back. He slid onto the barstool next to mine, turning the full force of his smile on me.

"Hello there beautiful. You workin' a distraction tonight?" he asked.

"Hey Santos. Nope not working."

"You sure?" he asked grinning at me.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Cause you sure distracted me," he slurred slightly.

I snorted a laugh and turned toward him. "Does that line actually work?"

"It's some new material. You tell me? Is it workin?" He asked smiling brightly and waggled his eyebrows. It was becoming obvious that Santos was a happy drunk.

"Sorry, but not so much," I said fighting a laugh that threatened to bubble out of me. I took a long pull off my beer.

"Ah well, can't win them all. What you doin' here, beautiful?" he asked, draining the last of his Corona and motioning for another one.

"Blowing off some steam. Had a bad week."

"Word," he said taking a sip of his fresh beer. "I heard all about your week. Morelli's banging Terri. Huh. Can't say I'm surprised."

I swallowed hard and ground my teeth. The wound was still fresh and the exact thing I was trying to forget. "Don't really want to talk about that Santos," I said.

"Point taken." He took another long drink of his beer.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Same as you. Had a shit week. Blowing off some steam."

"What happened?"

"Don't really want to talk about that," he said turning my own words back on me, glancing at me as he took another drink.

"Fair enough," I answered. We sat in silence for a few moments. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, just a companionable one.

"So Stephanie Plum, I just realized that we've never really hung out. Why do you think that is?" he slurred.

I laughed. "I'm not real sure. Conflicting schedules?"

He laughed loudly, fading into a snicker. "That's a damn shame beautiful. Damn shame." As he flashed me another smile, I decided that I was starting too really like drunken Santos. It was obvious he had a great sense of humor, and it was nice to see that all the RangeMen weren't made of steel.

"Yeah we should be friends," I said with a smile.

"Damn straight we should. The first time I saw you that was the second or third thought I had about you."

"Second or third? What was the first?" I asked against my better judgment.

He grinned at me and winked. "First was that you were smokin' hot. Second was if I could get you in the sack."

I laughed loudly. "With the lines you're throwing out here, I'm starting to doubt that what I've heard about you is true. I'm having a hard time believing that these lines actually work."

Santos gaped at me in mock astonishment. "This is some prime material here. They always work. You must be immune to my superior masculine charm. Must be something wrong with you. You don't like girls do you?"

I laughed and shook my head. "Nope. Not into girl on girl."

"Then there's still hope." He glanced at me and grinned. "And even if you were there'd still be hope. I'm that damn good."

I burst out laughing, feeling good for the first time since I'd found out about Joe and Terri. I smiled at Santos. Even with the cheesy pick up lines, I could see how a woman would fall for him quick. His lighthearted personality could draw a woman in quickly.

"So it's true? You're a player?" I asked, draining the last of my beer.

"Don't hate the player baby, hate the game," he said draining the last of his beer, and motioning for a couple more for both of us. I smiled tightly, the mention of 'player' making me think of the horribly embarrassing Joe situation. The smile disappeared from my face and I began concentrating on peeling the label off my beer bottle. "Where'd you go Steph?" he asked lightly, nudging me with his massive shoulder.

"I don't understand why guys feel the need to play games. Wouldn't it be easier to just be up front with a woman, instead of telling lies and hurting people?" I grumbled, not taking my eyes off the damp label I had half peeled off the bottle.

"Gettin' deep on me."

I shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's cool. I can't speak for Morelli. I suspect he has his own reasons for doing what he does."

I chanced a look up at him. His dark eyes were pinned on me. I met his gaze head on. "Why do you do it?" I asked quietly.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah."

Santos picked up our beers and motioned toward a small table in the corner with his head. "Follow me," he said walking over. He placed our beers on the table and took the seat with his back to the wall. I sat down across from him. I watched as he assessed his beer bottle, as if it held all the answers to my question. "I'm going to tell you this because I like you, and since we've decided to be friends and all, but this is not common knowledge, and I would appreciate it if you'd keep it between us."

"A confession then?" I asked leaning closer.

"Of sorts," he smirked. "God knows if I wasn't 14 beers deep, I'd keep my mouth shut. But like I said, since we've decided we should be friends, I'll dish it to ya."

"Dish on," I said taking a long drink.

He took a deep breath, and then a long drink, draining half the bottle. "I wasn't always like this."

"Like what?"

He motioned to his massive bicep. "This. I wasn't always jacked, and had women hanging off of me."

I snorted. "Right." I couldn't imagine Santos any other way. In my mind he probably came out of the womb winking at nurses, and getting phone numbers.

"Really, it's true." I looked into his dark eyes and saw that he was telling the truth. "I was a scrawny dork in high school. Couldn't get a date, much less get laid. Hell I had to take my cousin to my junior prom."

"Shut. Up."

"It was bad. I was tall and skinny, had braces and if a girl even so much as looked at me I got all tongue tied, and would trip over my own feet."

I stared at him in shock. It took a long moment for my ability to speak to return. "What changed?"

"The Navy changed me. After high school, I joined up. It gave me confidence, and I started hitting the weights, bulking up. I wanted to become a SEAL, and I knew they had to be tough. So I focused on that. Women started to notice me, and I sure as fuck noticed them. By then I had a serious ego, and it was just easy to pick them up."

I sat in silence for a long moment. "Wow."

"Yeah. So with my new found confidence and all, I was loving life. I had chicks, was getting ready to go to swim school, everything was great. Then I met Kendra." I noticed his expression changed as he said her name. A bitter look came into his eyes. "Kendra was everything that I could have ever wanted. She was hot. Hotter than any woman I'd ever seen, and she wanted me. We started dating, and things got serious. I fell hard and fast." He paused and stared down the beer bottle clenched in his hand. "I had no idea she was fucking every sailor that she came across. I came home from a mission and caught her banging some dude against the wall of our living room."

I bit my lip. I could feel for him. I'd been there. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

He glanced at me and shrugged. "I'm over it. It's not that big of a deal. But I decided then that I wouldn't ever give a woman the chance to hurt me like that again. I loved her and she fucked me over."

I reached out touched his hand lightly. "Not all women are like her."

"I'm sure their not, but I have no interest in letting it get that far. I'm content with my life now. A series of one night wham-bam-thank-ya-ma'am's works for me. They say variety is the spice of life." He grinned at me and drained the last of his beer. I watched him for a moment, torn about what he'd just confessed. "That doesn't excuse Morelli though Steph. Like I said, I'm sure he's got his reasons, but your better off with out him. He's an asshole."

I grinned. "Yeah he is."

"Besides, that opens the door for my boy to make a move," he said smiling brightly.

"I don't think so," I said, feeling a blush climb up my face at the thought of Ranger.

"Yeah, that's your problem. You think too much. You need to just go with it."

"I don't do casual sex."

He looked at me incredulously, blinking a few times. "You think what's going on with you two is casual?"

"Of course."

"Shit. I'd hate to see what your definition of a relationship is then."

I shifted in my seat. "I'm not going to talk about this," I said.

He watched me for a moment, assessingly. I could see the alcohol fuzz in his eyes, but I still felt like he could see through my pitiful barrier. Finally he shrugged he massive shoulders. "Ok," he said standing. He swayed slightly and bumped into the wall.

"What do you say I give you a lift home?" I said standing and moving next to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"I'd say I'd really like that, beautiful." He looked down at me and flashed a smile. "I can guarantee you would too," he whispered.

I chuckled. "Friends Santos. We're friends."

"Oh, right. I forgot. It's gonna take me awhile to get used to not thinking about getting into your panties. You'll have to excuse me."

"Come on big guy. Let's get you home," I said walking toward the bar, my right arm wrapped around his waist.

"Put our drinks on my tab Harry," Santos called out to the bartender.

"Sure thing Lester," Harry replied.

"Thanks," I said.

"Buying you a couple of beers is the least I can do. I'm hoping I can buy your silence. I don't need it gettin' out that I was a scrawny dork back in the day."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Good deal, Steph." We walked outside, and the cool autumn air blew across my flushed skin. It had been hot in there, at least that is what I was telling myself. My flush couldn't possibly have anything to do with 6'3" of rock hard, gorgeous, hunk of muscle snuggled up to my side.

"You ever heard of friends with benefits?" He said hugging me closer.

"We're not that kind of friends Santos," I said, barely suppressing the hot flash that coursed though me. I glanced up at him.

"Neither are you and Ranger. Think about that Steph." I didn't answer him, just opened the door to my Honda CRV and watched as he maneuvered his massive frame into my small SUV. I shut the door behind him and walked around to the driver's side. I hopped in and pulled out of the lot.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Just take me to Haywood. I'll sleep there tonight," he said stifling a yawn.

"Ok."

We rode in silence for a little while and soon we pulled into the Haywood garage. I parked and Santos opened the passenger door. He got out and leaned down.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Santos?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you drinking so much tonight? Just seems out of character."

He looked at me for a long moment. "Kendra got married." With that he shut the car door and walked toward the elevator, never even glancing back at me. I watched him until he got inside and the doors closed.

I pulled out of the garage, and headed towards my apartment, thinking that some scars you can see, and others you can't.


End file.
